All That's Bottled Up Inside
by lilkyonkyon
Summary: Love had always eluded her. That was why, deep down inside, Merope knew it was too good to last. Tom Sr./Merope unrequited. Rated for graphic adult themes. Further summary inside. ::The Five Chapters Challenge::
1. Fireflies

**Title: **All That's Bottled Up Inside

**Setting: **London and Little Hangleton, during the early 1900s

**Summary: **Merope's life in reverse, from her death, to her marriage, all the way back to her childhood. Five scenes of her life that Dumbledore and Harry never found out, and five scenes that wouldn't mean much to anyone else but her.

**Disclaimer: **First, thanks to daysandweeks for the challenge! I enjoyed writing it very much. J.K. Rowling takes the credit for Harry Potter.

**Chapter One**

**Fireflies**

The afterbirth slid out of her; Merope moaned with effort and was silent.

"Good girl," the woman clucked gently, and the grip she had on the young girl's hand turned into a comforting hold. "Good girl."

Soft pants of air were all the young witch could manage. Merope closed her eyes, and concentrated on breathing. She knew that she was dying — the midwives hadn't been able to stop the flow of blood, and she could not summon the courage, or the magic, to do so herself. But she was not distressed. In fact, she felt a melancholy sort of happiness take over. She couldn't bear another moment without him.

Finally, weakly, she pulled her fingers from the woman's hand. "Mrs. Cole . . . please, some water." The woman bustled away and returned quickly with a small, dingy glass, which Merope drank from gratefully.

"What will you name him?" Mrs. Cole prompted as she took the empty cup.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, please, ma'am. Tom for h-his father, and Marvolo for mine."

The woman smiled. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. A fine name. He will be a marvelous little boy." She hesitated, then asked, "Would you like to hold him?"

Merope stared. "I-is that . . . is it alright?"

"Of course, dear. Just hold your arms out — that's right . . ." Mrs. Cole instructed her, and soon, Merope cradled her newborn child in her arms. She watched him, detached, feeling that last hold she had on her husband finally severed. He was no longer a part of her. The baby gurgled and toyed with her finger, but she could not even summon a smile. "I hope he looks like his papa," she intoned.

Mrs. Cole cleared her throat gently and murmured, "You need your rest. I will take care of little Tom." Merope heard it as a promise and managed a feeble nod. "I'll let you rest, dear." Mrs. Cole took the small bundle from the young girl's arms and led him out of the room. From the bed, she watched him go, too weak to do anything but sigh and turn away.

Outside of the window, the whole sky was lit with stars, like the fireflies she'd so often played with when she was young — vibrating, so alive, waiting for a hand to chase them away.

Merope closed her eyes, and slept.


	2. The Necklace

**Chapter Two**

**The Necklace**

The bell tinkled as she stepped carefully into the store, clutching the locket around her neck as if it were a protective amulet. The man at the counter, with a smile that made her shiver, ran his eyes up the length of her, lingering on her stomach.

"Ah, Miss Gaunt! Or should I say Missus Riddle?" His grin widened as she nervously bit her lip. "May I help you?"

Merope, eyes trained on the floor ahead of her, moved towards the register, trying to control her anxiety. "Mister Burke, I have something to sell," she said, low enough to cause him to lean forward in order to hear.

"What is it this time? Another piece of junk? Just because I'm generous with you, girl—"

"No, sir." With a gulp, she unfastened the necklace and slid it across the counter. "It's this. M-my father gave it to me when I was young." He had picked it up while she was speaking, examining it with eyes sharper than dragon's teeth.

"How old did you say this was?"

"Er . . . I don't know how old it is, b-but it's been in my family for a long time now, sir." He didn't ask another question; instead, he summoned a magnifying glass and peered through it at the stone. "My father said that it was valuable, sir."

"Your father thought everything he touched was valuable," Burke muttered, but he didn't look up from the locket. Merope felt a kick from inside and winced. Her hand gently pressed on her stomach. She was in her seventh month now, and each day wore on her more. With dim eyes, she watched Burke banish the magnifying glass and weigh the locket on a set of intricate scales. "Four ounces of silver — quite a bit, indeed. And a decent emerald to go along with it. Your father was right, for once. This locket is valuable."

She leaned against the counter, feeling hope trickling into her. "How much, Mister Burke?"

"Ten galleons."

"Ten?" A grin split her face. "Oh, thank you, Mister Burke! Thank you! Yes, please take it." He bared his teeth at her once again in a smile as he arranged the locket in a display cabinet behind the counter. Then, all leisure, he counted out the ten golden coins and placed them — almost tenderly — into her outstretched hands.

"Now don't waste my money, girl," Merope heard him warn her as she scampered outside.


	3. Blue Eyes on Brown

**Chapter Three**

**Blue Eyes on Brown**

He'd made love to her after she told him she was with child. Merope never grew tired of the feeling, the bliss that was their union, and he worshiped her body with every caress of his mouth. He always trained his eyes on her — those impossibly blue irises begging her plain brown ones for affection. She returned it fervently as she dared. They both wept with bliss. When he was spent, Tom planted a kiss just above her naval and whispered a profession of love to her, and to their child. They fell asleep in each other's arms.

Her dreams that night were confused. The pair was at the park where he had first told her he loved her, and he was saying it again, breathy and eager.

Then they were running to London together, crammed into a carriage. Both were imagining what stories would be told once they were discovered to be gone. Merope tried to hold his hand.

They were walking down the street. They were being wed. All of the memories seemed to flash before her eyes, a year of them being together. But each scene ended the same way.

When she reached to touch him, Tom crumbled, hollow inside, and she watched him vanish before her very eyes.

Merope awoke with a start. Her husband was still asleep beside her, so she made sure not to disturb him as she rose. She locked herself in the bathroom and stared at her hazy reflection in the mirror. Those plain brown eyes, now swimming with tears.

She was living in a fantasy as long as she fed him the potion. She knew that now. But she also could recollect one thousand tender moments, moments that meant so much to them both. Tom could never hate her after what they had conquered and shared. This was their life now.

More than anything, she wanted him to be a willing part of it. Merope, after scrubbing away her tears, poured the rest of the love potion into the toilet and flushed.


	4. The Love Potion

**Chapter Four**

**The Love Potion**

Merope stepped into the potion store with her head held high. She could feel the reassuring weight of her Galleons pressing against her leg with every small stride to the register. Behind the wooden counter, scorched by years of misuse, Madame Upson gave her a mistrustful glance.

"Where's your father, young lady?" she asked by way of greeting. Merope decided to ignore her, instead plopping her heavy purse on the counter. The woman immediately straightened up. "What was it you needed?" she asked instead.

So she told her everything, rattling off the ingredients as if casting a spell. The old woman moved slowly behind the counter, measuring the ingredients with a silence that also seemed measured and every so often casting a glare in Merope's direction.

The young girl didn't mind in the least. For the first time in her life, she was doing something that she was not told to do, and she would not be scolded when she arrived in her empty house. She'd waited her entire life for an opportunity, and she would not let it get away.

"That will be three galleons, two sickles and eight knuts," Madame Upson said, deftly twisting the top of the bag into a knot. Merope slid the money across the counter with a shyly defiant smile. The old woman took the money. "When I was young, girls never thought of these things," she grumbled as she rattled the cash register open.

Only when Merope received her change, did she reply, "That's why they didn't do them." She snatched the bag off of the counter and strode out the door.

It didn't take long at all to brew the potion. Merope had never believed it could be so easy, not after what her father had told her ever since she was young. She was never good enough for him, or her brother, or the family, but now she felt that she could be, that she could do what she wanted and do it well.

Merope felt reckless. Alive. Wonderful. She had such plans, things she'd only ever dreamed of, and now they were within reach, like the fireflies she'd always tried to catch when she was little. This love potion was her first step to a better life. She filled the chocolates with the concoction, and sent it away to his house, leaving the note anonymous.

Then she waited.


	5. Childhood Memories

**Chapter Five**

**Childhood Memories**

She remembered the day her mother died. Merope hadn't been there; she'd been outside chasing fireflies. The whole sky was alive with them, and she had never seen anything quite so beautiful. Each yellow orb always seemed to appear just out of reach, and she'd run and run towards the source, only to find that it was somewhere else entirely. Morfin was on an errand in Knockturn Alley, so it felt okay to laugh aloud as she ran after the lights.

They guided her further away from her house, but she didn't realize it until the ominous roll of thunder forced her to turn around.

Merope didn't know where she was.

"Dad?" she called timidly. The only answer was another roll of thunder, and the first drops of rain. Frightened, she ran ahead, calling for her father and mother, and even her brother on occasion. Finally, a kindly man rushing to get out of the rain came across her and asked her where she lived. Even though he was drenched, he took her home by the hand, and didn't leave until her father answered the door. She was drenched, but she was home. Merope waved goodbye to the stranger until he disappeared around the curve of the road.

It was then her father struck her, once across the face. "Don't you ever leave again without permission!" he bellowed. "You don't want to touch that filth again! He's a muggle, a mudblood, and I forbid you to ever speak with another stranger again!"

"Where's Mum?" she wailed, holding her stinging cheek and scrambling to get away. Her father seized her wrist and tugged her back.

"She's gone, gel!" He gave her a shake. "Gone!"

"I want Mum!"

"You don't listen, do you? You can't do anything right!" Her father boxed her ears again. She couldn't be sure, but when she looked up at him again through tear-stained eyes, Merope couldn't help but wonder if he was crying, as well, or if it was just the rain. "You're a good-for-nothing, gel, a dreamer! Get your head out of the sky!" Then, with an unearthly snarl, he pulled her by the hair inside, all the way to her room, where he tossed her in and locked the door.


End file.
